Swanson Sabbatical

(Dr. Swanson & Friends Golfing in Maine)

Since my return from sabbatical, I have been asked many times: “How was it?” Whenever I try to answer, I walk away feeling I have failed to do it justice. It’s impossible to recount in any short form the significance of what God did in me during my time away, but I’ll try to distill it into manageable portions through this post. 

First, God revealed a way of being in which my spiritual life is more fully integrated into the whole of my life. In fact, my spiritual life is the whole of my life. When we find greater coherence between our relationship with God and the rhythms of daily life, we discover a beauty in life that we often miss, the beauty of the small and mundane. Much of this learning stemmed from a book by Evelyn Underhill titled The Spiritual Life. She writes, “So many people are like deaf people at a concert. They study the program carefully, believe every statement made in it, speak respectfully of the quality of the music, but never actually hear it. They have no notion of the mighty symphony which fills the universe, to which our lives are destined to make their tiny contribution, and which is the self-expression of the eternal God.”

I don’t want to merely know about the enormous symphony of God or even to have the ability to speak well about it. I want to hear it, to be swept up by it—and in it—such that I can grasp the note that I am to play, all as I am consumed by the larger glory of our eternal God. Instead, I hear the music for a few minutes, but as I walk into my office, I am oddly deaf. I encounter a conflict, and the notes fade even further away. In my heart, I want to say, “No!” I am not spiritually deaf. I need to simply listen more deeply and with greater awareness, for His music is all about me all the time.

(Dr. Swanson and His Dad, Don)

Second, one of my struggles has always been in receiving God’s love. The guilt of my sin has always remained more mentally prevalent than any notion of God’s love. However, God finally broke through that when I encountered something I had not yet considered. In Dane Ortlund’s book Deeper, he writes, “If you saw yourself as lovely, that would limit how loved you could feel. But love by its very nature is not dependent on the loveliness of the beloved. If you felt yourself lovely, you could feel loved to a degree, but you could not be astonished with how loved you are. It’s precisely our messiness that makes Christ’s love so surprising, so startling, so arresting—and thereby so transforming.” I realized that the awareness of my own sinful nature was actually enabling me to more fully grasp the wonder of God’s love! My awareness was no longer a hindrance, but a gift in drawing near to the Father, and an agent in my spiritual transformation. Sitting on the porch of a cabin in western North Carolina, I wept. God, after all the years, had finally pierced through that barrier of guilt and shame.

Finally, all of this pointed to a more measured, more reflective way of life. I have shared with you before that the cancers our family has experienced have been used by God to bring me great perspective. It has brought enormous clarity to me in regard to what is important, what is urgent, and what is not. Underhill writes, “We mostly spend our lives conjugating three verbs: to want, to have, and to do. Craving, clutching and fussing, on the political, material, social, emotional, intellectual—even on the religious—plane, we are kept in perpetual unrest: forgetting that none of these verbs have any ultimate significance, except so far as they are transcended by and included in the fundamental verb: to Be, and that being, not wanting, having and doing, is the essence of spiritual life.” As a result, I have lived my days of late focused on never clutching, craving or fussing about things that have no significance. I try to walk slower, speak less often, and simply be with God and with those around me. It is a far more peaceful and rewarding way to live, but I acknowledge our culture is the enemy of such existence. I daily slide in and out of it, but such is the nature of maturing. I am but a child learning the things of my good, good Father even as he leads me over treacherous and thorny paths. Having that mindset is what affords greater comfort. May you join me in that journey.

With Love & Gratitude,

Dr. David D. Swanson

Sr. Pastor, First Presbyterian Church of Orlando

(Dr. Swanson and Wife, Leigh Swanson)

(Alex & Cassie Swanson’s Wedding, 10.18.25)